Our First Dip in the Pool in Daytona

I love to go swimming. I was the kid that splashed and totally enjoyed tormenting those that had to ease into the pool. I’m not that brat anymore though. As I mentioned I’m a mature woman, I have out grown splashing those poor souls who have to take baby steps getting into the water.

Well I am a bit impatient but that’s different than being a brat.

As I said, I was in Daytona with my best buds so of course we had to hit the pool the first night together…it’s Daytona, so going swimming is a must.

Dobby is pretty smart, she takes one look at me and forgets about getting in the water slow…yelling something like…don’t you dare Kelly as she sinks in the water. Sue on the other hand whining…don’t you dare, I can’t get splashed I have to go slowly.

Did I mention we were in the pool upstairs that has a gym that over looks the pool? There was a fella in there jogging on the treadmill and looking out at the pool. It’s dark out so we can see him as well as him seeing us.

We weren’t the only ones in the pool area either. Another fella was sitting in a chair off to the side of the pool chatting on the phone.

So I had given Sue time…really it was a full 5 minutes of…come on it’s not that cold…it’s better if you just get it over with. She’s made it to her bellybutton and then she stops again cause…”this is another hard part, my tummy is hard to get wet”…at this rate Dobby and I would be shriveled up to nothing if we waited on her. So I fixed it the only way a best bud can…

“I love you, Sue, I really do”…I say loudly as I walk up to her and give her a big bear hug…then I fall backwards carrying her with me. I was gentle and slow…really I was…just ask the fella that about ran throw the window on the tread mill. He apparently was dripping wet after his workout cause he was rubbing his face and body with a towel the next time we looked over at him. The guy on the phone stopped talking and we never heard another peep out of him either.

Shortly afterwards, Sue, shivering and shaking headed for the hot tub. We were sitting around the hot tube laughing and talking about what we had planned for the next day.

Sue said…and I quote…”I’m coming out (insert long pause) …”…this is too good to pass up…

”Oh Sue I’m so proud and happy for you”…at this point I think the guy dropped the phone…

“Oh cute, I was just trying to think of what time I would come out to the pool…”

(picture Dobby and I howling with laughter at this point)…but Sue not to be out done…I’m so proud of her…

“Well if I did come out, everyone would know your hubby was a sham and Dobby comes over to give us the European flare.”

More hoots of laughter and silly chatter…I guess the fella with the phone couldn’t take all the hilarity cause he soon took off and the guy in the gym left huffing and puffing not long afterwards, he really worked up a sweat on that treadmill…*ggg*

I guess when we get together, some people are just overwhelmed by our conversations or the joy we find in spending time with each other. It’s only been a few days but I already miss my buds. It will be a whole year until we get together again. I guess that’s good cause the rest of the world couldn’t handle us together much more than once a year for a week…*ggg*.

Driving Daddy's Truck...Finally

It’s amazing what a few decades will do for your outlook and confidence. Then again when it comes to your Daddy, they can also fade away like they never existed.

When I was 15, daddy had a midnight blue Ford truck with a step-side body and big wheels. He special ordered that truck and loved it. So did all the teenage boys in the neighborhood. That being the case, I was bound and determined I was going to be driving that coveted truck around town as soon as I got my drivers license.

I must mention that this truck with the big wheels didn’t have power steering…oh and it wasn’t an automatic?

Well it didn’t take long (just one missed power pole) for daddy to spew a few words he rarely used in front of his little girl and to declare I was not going to drive his truck again. Ever. And that was the end of my truck driving days…until I met a fella in high school with an automatic…*G*…but that’s a saga unto itself.

I guess I could blame Daddy for not knowing how to drive a stick shift but a little Fierro and smitten fella couldn’t teach me either (he just buys me automatics when it’s time to trade now)…but that’s another story.

Well it only took Daddy two and half decades to change his mind about me driving another one of his trucks. (That’s not to say that I didn’t drive his cars every chance I got…*G*).

When I got in town Friday, Daddy let me borrow his big black truck. He washed it, filled it with gas and I was off to Daytona. Of course the first day I was in heels so it was a bit tricky getting back in swing of driving a truck again. But I found a station that mixed the ol’ twangy country with some of the latest hits and before you know it I was singing along with music was blaring and lovin’ life.

I don’t know what it is about a big truck but it brings out the little boy in every guy. When I slid out of the truck at the hotel, I told the kid to be careful with it cause it was my Daddy’s truck. “Yes ma’am, it’s a nice truck too,” and with a glazed look in his eyes he climbs up in the truck and takes off. I was thinking, better you than me. I knew there was no way I could get that monster in and out of a parking spot. I’m use to scooting around in a Matrix, no way did I want to try parking an extended bed truck on stilts.

So life was great, I was cruising right along in Daddy’s truck without a worry in the world. I picked Sue up from the airport on Sunday. Sue being 5.1 had a bit of trouble climbing in but soon we were off laughing and chatting…and circling the airport a couple of times. They lost one of her bags but called before we left the airport so life again was back on track and looking great.

We got back to the hotel to drop off Sue’s stuff and pick up Dobby. The three of us were planning on going to Daddy’s for dinner. Life is fabulous. I’m reunited with my best friends and we’re laughing and having fun.

Then I walk out of Sue’s room (which is right next to mine) and the bottom drops out of my perfect world.

Yes folks this is where the self-confident 42 year old woman falls victim to “Oh Shit Daddy’s Gonna Kill Me” syndrome. You remember that syndrome, it happens to most teenagers once (or more) in our young impressionable lives.

A security guard is standing at my door…my first thought…I haven’t been her long enough to have security after me.

Let me back up and explain about this security guard. The words Security Guard bring to mind big strapping man with a gun. Well in my case I ended up with a kid that looks like a stiff wind would blow him over. And instead of having a commanding voice he sounded kinda whiny.

Ok, so I’m a bit nervous cause I knew I didn’t do anything that warranted a security guard (I hadn’t even had my first drink yet *g*).

He starts out…

“Ms. J, do you own a black Ram 2500?”

…here’s where the sinking feeling of the “Oh Shit Daddy’s Gonna Kill Me” syndrome kicks in…

”It’s my daddy’s truck”

”Well there’s been an accident, a pipe fell on it”

…now I can no longer hear what he is saying because I’m visualizing that insurance commercial where the couple is ice skating and he hits a shed and says…”I’m fine”…then a sheet of ice falls on the car parked next to the shed totaling the car.

My first words to the security kid with the quivering voice…”you’re telling daddy I had nothing to do with it”

I thought the kid was going to faint. You see, I come across as a strong, out going, nothing bothers me…and my daddy drives a monster truck so he must be a real bruiser if I’m afraid to tell him…*g*.

“Ms. J, I promise we’ll pay for the repairs”…now the brain is starting to kick in again.

“You mean it can be fixed?”

“Oh yes, Ms. J. It only scratched the roof”

…the heart starts beating again…

”So it’s not totaled or anything?”…

”Oh no ma’am, it’s just got a scratch on the top of the roof, I don’t think it even dented it.”

*Rolling eyes*…”Well why didn’t you say that in the beginning?”

So a quick phone call to Daddy (where scaredy-kid explained what happened) and a few forms later, Sue, Dobby and I were off to Daddy’s for dinner.

I will say Daddy’s reaction was the old ‘as long as you’re ok, it’s fine’…well then he added why couldn’t it have been totaled, then he could get a new one…*g*…will wonders ever cease?

But he was standing in the bed of the truck with a neighbor looking over at the scratch on the roof of his truck when the three of us came out to leave…*G*.

Daddy has really mellowed in a few decades…but he will always be my daddy so I’ll always be plagued with the “OSDGKM” syndrome no matter what…*ggg*.

Yesterday on my way back to daddy's house, I was on the phone with Sue (my bestest bud). I was telling her what to expect when she meets Daddy tomorrow...he will find something to joke about or pick on you, he is great at trying to embarrass you but it's all in fun, he's friendly, a talker and everyone loves him. She laughed and when I asked what was so funny, she said he sounds just like you.

Well after spending the day with that comment in the back of my mind, I looked at Daddy with different eyes (blue eyes, just like his). I'll be day~umed she's right. I went to a funeral a couple of years ago and when it was over and we were standing around chatting long after everyone else left there was laughter. When telling others about the experience, they said they've never been to a funeral and ended up laughing.

Daddy and I went back visit my hometown and of course visit a few gravesite. We stopped at my grandparent grave to leave flowers. They had several funerals going on so the funeral director was out and about. He stopped by to speak (we were in a small southern town, so it common for the locals to stop and speak...*g*). I had a few questions because my grampa's death year wasn't on there. I didn't want to go into the whole family dysfunction with the poor fella so I just told him to check into it. Give me a call and I would pay for having it done. After giving him my address and phone number the jokes began. We laughed and joked back and forth for about 20 minutes over every thing from me leaving the best city in the world to me being a halfbreed (daddy bein'' a yankee and all but that was ok cause daddy's has lived here year round for over 50 years). I had forgotten how daddy can make anyone laugh even at a somber place such as grave yard talking to a serious man in a black suit.

After leaving there we drove by our old house and stopped because a neighbor we knew way back when, still lived there. They recognized daddy right off (they haven't seen me since I was 19), the husband thought I was daddy's new wife (or girlfriend) but the wife knew me right off...she said...Smitty she looks just like you (boy have I hear that all my life).

We visited my father-inlaws grave. Of course it's been about 10 years since the last time I was there so we had to traipse around looking for it but we laughed about how my hubby would be sitting in the car...he has a thing about graveyards...*g*. We finally found it, thank goodness. I told Daddy how much I missed my father-inlaw cause he loved to laugh and joke with me too.

We drove around more looking at schools and churches we've been to over the years. We looked at houses we've lived in and places we worked. Daddy and I have a sort of short hand we talk in cause neither one of use can remember names worth a day~um. So each person get a bit of a story...you remember that man that use to...

We hit the grocery store on the way home and again it's the abbreviated coversation about the list of things we needed...we understand each other and have for as long as I can remember. My hubby calls it Smithanees...*shrug*...what can I say, my son does the same thing and he hasn't grown up around daddy the way I did...must be genetic...*g*.

So on my drive back to the hotel last night, again I was thinking about Sue's comment. I think I'm old enough now to realize...yup, I'm like my Daddy and you know, that's not a bad thing at all. He's well liked, never meets a stranger and can laugh at about anything including death. Even his own, cause he wants to be cremated and I told him that's fine but I'm not scattering him on the 18th hole cause my luck the wind will pick up and I'd be brushing him off the rest of the day...*ggg*...what can I say, nothing is sacred when it comes to picking on each other.